Lecture 33 Chinese Philosophy of Change PDF

Title Lecture 33 Chinese Philosophy of Change
Course Philosophy
Institution Don Honorio Ventura Technological State University
Pages 17
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Lecture about Chinese Philosophy of Change...


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Chinese Philosophy of Change (Yijing) This article discusses the Chinese philosophy of change based on the Yijing (I Ching, Book of Changes). A canonized Confucian classic, the Yijing is a composite text consisting of three distinct layers. Its first layer is comprised by the 8 trigrams and 64 hexagrams allegedly created by the mythical figure, Fu Xi (see the images of trigrams and hexagrams in Appendixes 1 and 2). Its second layer are the hexagram statements and line statements allegedly written by King Wen and the Duke of Zhou during the 11th century BCE (see the names of the 64 hexagrams in Appendix 3). Its third layer incorporates seven pieces of writings composed from 5 th to 2nd century BCE. Divided into ten segments (hence, the name “Ten Wings”), the authors of these writings used the hexagrams to discuss cosmic patterns, the relations between humanity and nature, and the complexity of human life (see the list of the “Ten Wings” in Appendix 4). By 125 BCE, these three textual layers were combined to form what we now call the Yijing. For a detailed account of the textual history of Yijing, see Nylan 2001: 202–52; Redmond and Hon 2014: 1–157; Richard Smith 2012: 1–47. Underlying the Yijing philosophy of change is the notion that the cosmos is an organismic process without beginning or end. As a process, the cosmos resembles a great flow in which “all of the parts of the entire cosmos belong to one organic whole” and all the parts “interact as participants in one spontaneously self-generating process” (Tu 1985: 35). As such, there are three characteristics of this great flow: continuity, wholeness, and dynamism. It is continuous because it never stops in renewing itself. It is holistic because it includes everything in the universe and permeates in all aspects of life. It is dynamic because it is full of motion and movement, generating energy and strength all the time (Tu 1985: 38–39). In this cosmic flow, there is no distinction between the following: the natural realm and the human realm,

an observing subject and an observed object, and the inner world and the outer world. Everything is part of a totality, a group dance that never stops. To the Yijing commentators, the unfolding of the universe is vividly portrayed in the 8 trigrams and 64 hexagrams. For instance, they see the 8 trigrams (☰, ☱, ☲, ☳, ☴, ☵, ☶, ☷) as graphic representations of the mixing of the yin and yang cosmic forces (or qi, energy). With different combinations of a straight line (—) representing the yang cosmic force, and a broken line (‒ ‒) representing the yin cosmic force, a trigram symbolizes the cosmos’ constant renewal and its creation of the myriad things. Similarly, a hexagram is also a symbol of the unfolding of the universe. For example, a hexagram can be divided into two trigrams: the lower trigram (lines 1–3) and the upper trigram (lines 4–6). With two trigrams, a hexagram symbolizes the interaction of two sets of yin-yang configuration, demonstrating the multiple ways in which the yin and yang forces interact and transform each other. Or, one takes the lower two lines of a hexagram as representing the earth (di), the middle two lines as representing humankind (ren), and the top two lines as representing heaven (tian). Then, we have a trigram within a hexagram. Known as the “three potencies” (san cai), the relation of heaven, earth, and humankind highlights the co-dependence between the natural realm (tian and di) and the human realm (ren). 1. Human Finitude With trigrams and hexagrams as symbols of the “three potencies”, the starting point of Yijing philosophy is the acceptance of human finitude. On the one hand, the “three potencies” highlight the limits of human beings in shaping the natural environment. On the other, they empower human beings to pursue their goals if they are willing to adapt to the natural environment. For instance, in Xici (one of the “Ten Wings”), the authors point out that in the oracles there were encouraging words such as “auspicious” (ji) and “without blame” (wujiu), and stern warnings against “calamity” (xiong), “blame” (jiu), “regret” (hui) and “remorse” (lin) (Xici I: 3, 7). These contrasting prognostications highlight the harsh reality of human existence. In some incidents, the wind of luck is on our side; whatever we do seems to go well. But in other incidents, we are clearly out of luck: no matter how hard we try, we are doomed to failure. To elucidate what they mean by the harsh reality of human existence, the Xici authors identify the period when hexagrams were used in divination. They write: The Changes came into use in the period of middle antiquity. Those who composed the Changes had fear and anxiety. (Xici II: 7; WB: 345, with modifications) Here, the Xici authors link the popularity of hexagram divination to the momentous transition when the mandate of heaven (tianming)—the power to rule China—was abruptly passed from the Shang family to the Zhou family.

To highlight the importance of divination in assuaging human fear, the Xici authors coin two terms—fear (you) and anxiety (huan)—to describe the different states of human apprehension of uncertainty. To further clarify what fear and anxiety mean, the Xici authors write: The time at which the Change came to the fore was that in which the house of Yin [Shang] came to an end and the way of the house of Zhou 周 was rising, that is, the time when King Wen and the tyrant Zhou 紂 were pitted against each other. This is why the hexagram statements of the book so frequently warn against danger. He who is conscious of danger creates peace for himself, he who takes things lightly creates his own downfall. (Xici II:11; WB: 352, with modifications) Directly linking the popularity of hexagram divination to the epic battle between the last ruler of Shang (King Zhou) and the first ruler of Zhou (King Wen), the Xici authors see hexagrams as stern warnings against danger and downfall. In these warnings, hexagrams provoked fear by reminding readers —typically, those involved in government—of the disastrous consequences of bad decisions and reckless moves (such as the tyrant Zhou’s brutality that led to the downfall of the Shang). They also instilled anxiety by calling attention to the vulnerability of human beings and the randomness in human fate (such as the sudden fall of the Shang and the unexpected rise of the Zhou). Whether provoking fear or instilling anxiety, the effect of hexagram divination is the same. It forces readers to reflect on their arrogance, complacency and self-indulgence. It shocks them to look for ways to come to terms with contingency and serendipity. Above all, it directs attention to the dark side of human existence such as disease, deformation, degeneration, and death (Redmond & Hon 2014: 128–139). For the Xici’s authors, it did not matter whether danger and downfall happened in the political realm or in one’s body. The truth of the matter is that human beings have little control of their fate. At the same time, the Xici’s authors also sought to console nervous readers, assuring them that if they learnt to read hexagrams properly, they will discern the pattern behind incessant changes. They write: The Changes is a book from which one may not hold aloof. Its dao [i.e., pattern] is forever changing—alternating, movement without rest, flowing through the six empty places [of a hexagram]; rising and sinking without fixed law, firm and yielding transform each other. They cannot be confined within a rule; it is only change that is at work here. They move inward and outward according to fixed rhythms. Without and within, they teach caution. They also show care and sorrow and their causes. Though you have no teacher, approach them as you would your parents. (“Xici” II: 7; WB: 348–49, with modifications) Seen in this light, the 64 hexagrams are no longer oracles. They become symbols of the constant movements in the universe and the ceaseless

changes in one’s life. More important, they point to the intricate networks of factors or forces—from near to far away, from simple to complicated, from visible to invisible—that shape movements and changes. Take, for instance, Qian ䷀ (The Creative #1). The line statements depict the six yang lines as a dragon in various positions—a “hidden dragon” in line one at the bottom, an “emerging dragon” in line two, a “wavering dragon” in line four, a “flying dragon” in line five, and an “arrogant dragon” in line six at the top (see Appendix 5). In addition, the line statements suggest a correspondence between the dragon’s position and a proper course of action: the “hidden dragon” should avoid taking aggressive action, the “emerging dragon” and the “flying dragon” should seek help from “a great man”, the “wavering dragon” should take flight over the depths despite the danger and apparent risks, and the “arrogant dragon” will regret being stubborn and excessively confident. But, as a hexagram, Qian is ambiguous. On the one hand, in five of its six lines, the tone seems to be upbeat, projecting an impression of an incessant progress from a hidden dragon to an emerging dragon, a wavering dragon and finally a flying dragon. On the other hand, the progression is abruptly cut short by the downfall of an arrogant dragon. Like a Greek tragedy, the rapid fall of the arrogant dragon suggests hubris, highlighting the danger of excessive human pride in making strenuous efforts to pull oneself up. In Tuan (another piece of the “Ten Wings”), the authors emphasize the importance of mounting of the six dragons of Qian in a timely fashion (shi cheng liu long) (for a translation of the Tuan statement, see WB: 370–72). By mounting of the six dragons in a timely fashion, the Tuan authors mean two things. First, they view the six lines of Qian as constantly changing their positions. Even if one strictly follows the incremental progress from a hidden dragon (the first line) to an emerging dragon (the second line) to a flying dragon (the fifth line), upon reaching the top (an arrogant dragon), one must go back down to a hidden dragon and to start all over again. Second, the Tuan authors suggest readers choose a dragon most suitable to them, such as to assume the position of a hidden dragon when starting a new business or beginning a new career, to act like an emerging dragon after receiving recognition from peers or bosses, to be like a wavering dragon when making crucial transition in career or location, to be like a flying dragon when everything seems to be flourishing, and last but not least, to avoid becoming an arrogant dragon when everything looks perfect but a decline is imminent. In short, the Tuan authors urge readers to view Qian metaphorically as a spatial-temporal grid to reflect on their surroundings, to look for alternatives, and to anticipate dangers and pitfalls. As such, Qian becomes a symbol of the ever-changing universe. It is particularly helpful when we are at a critical juncture of our lives. At that moment—one may say, the Yijing moment—we feel especially vulnerable and fragile, because we are reminded of the

confluence of factors that shape our lives and the dangers of making a wrong decision. On the other hand, Qian also suggest that we act decisively to “mount the six dragons in a timely manner”. Once we mount the six dragons, we become part of the great flow of the universe. We may be a hidden dragon or an arrogant dragon when we enter the great flow, but as we are swept along by the current, we should find our position, our rhythm, our trajectory. In the end, the key point is not when and how we enter the great flow of the universe, but what we become and what we achieve after we join the great flow. 2. Three Approaches to Philosophize Change In the “Ten Wings”, different authors offer different strategies for individuals to find their roles in the great flow of the universe. For instance, the Shuogua authors suggest that a person should focus on the 8 trigrams as symbols of the unfolding of the universe, such as Gen ☶ representing mountain, Li ☲ representing fire, Kan ☵ representing water, and Zheng ☳ representing thunder (for a summary of the main argument of Shuagua, see WB: 356–65). Like the “Five Agents” (metal, wood, water, fire, and earth), the eight trigrams graphically denote the basic elements of the universe that produce the myriad things. The Shuogua authors also propose that we think of the 8 trigrams as symbols of directions, strategically placed in the eastsouth-west-north grid. With the cosmic grand scheme in mind, the Shuohua authors urge us to find solace in the rises and falls in human life. Whereas the Shuogua authors focus on the 8 trigrams, the Xugua authors pay special attention to the sequence of the 64 hexagrams (for a full translation of Xugua, see Lynn 1994: 103–110). In rationalizing the hexagram sequences, the Xugua authors match the order of hexagrams with key moments of human evolution, beginning with the construction of a primitive community to the establishment of a patrilineal family structure based on gender distinctions and matrimony. Later, the patrilineal family structure is further expanded into a complex socio-political system based on the distinctions between kings and officials, and rulers and ruled. While this process of development seems inevitable, occasionally the Xugua authors call attention to challenges and obstacles in maintaining a stable community. They identify moments where the socio-political order is corrupt (Kui #38 and Jian #39) or disintegrated (Huan #59). Because of the danger of corruption and disintegration, the Xugua authors emphasize the need for renewing the socio-political order by replacing corrupt leaders (Ge #49) and re-structuring the entire system (Ding #50). Nevertheless, occasional interruptions do not interfere with or slow down the steady progress of humankind. Based on this epic saga, the Xugua authors place the fortune and misfortune of individuals in the longue durée of human evolution. Accidents, irritant behaviors, unexpected occurrences, and unplanned actions are absorbed and rationalized in the onward march of humankind.

If one just reads the Shuogua and the Xugua, divination does not seem to have a role in decision making. One makes decisions based on either the confluence of cosmic forces or the longue durée of human evolution. But in the Xici, divination is important. In fact, an extended passage is devoted to discussing how to perform divination with 50 yarrow stalks (Xici I: 8, more about it later). In addition, the Xici authors identify divination as one of four ways to use the hexagrams: (1) to use the hexagram statements and line statements as warnings against danger and downfall; (2) to use the changes in trigrams and hexagrams to understand the ceaseless changes in the natural realm and the human realm; (3) to use hexagram images to enhance rulers’ authority; (4) to use divination to provoke inquirers to think more deeply about their choices (Xici I: 9; WB: 314). Based on these four-fold uses of hexagrams, the Xici authors highlight the broad appeal of the Yijing. It can be a book of “wisdom” (zhi) for those who are interested in pondering the causes and patterns of change; it can be a book of “kindness” (ren) for those who are interested in improving the political order; it can be a book of “life” (riyong) for those who just want to live, overcome obstacles, and make fewer mistakes (Xici I: 4; WB: 298). These three approaches—the cosmological, the political, and the existential—formed the bases for Yijing commentators to philosophize change. Over the two thousand years after the canonization of the Yijing in 125 BCE, commentators developed three distinct views toward change—the cosmology of change, the ontology of change, and the moralmetaphysics of change. 3. The Cosmology of Change Rulers of the Han dynasty (206 BCE–220 CE) were obsessed with building an eternal empire, a humanly-made system that not only mimicked the recurrent pattern of the universe but also responded proactively to the ebb and flow of cosmic forces (Pines 2009, 2012). This everlasting structure was stable and flexible, massive and specific, synchronizing human activities for the unfolding of the universe. Its goal was to merge the natural and human realms, such that the two became one and the same (Loewe 1994, 2005; Wang 2000). Known as correlative cosmology, the purpose behind this fusion of the natural and human realms was to focus attention on “the mutual responsiveness of heaven and humanity” (Queen 1996: 1–53). This mutual responsiveness of nature and humankind was based on two assumptions. First, the cosmos is orderly and stable. Its orderliness and stability are shown in the regular succession in time, such as the four seasons, the twelve months, the 365¼ days. Second, the same orderliness of the natural world is found in the human realm in the forms of life cycles, the rhythm of work and rest, and the rise and fall of family fortunes. Despite the vicissitudes on the surface, the natural and human worlds are balanced, systematic and predictable. They are perfect mirrors of each other, such that when one moves, the other responds.

The goal of correlative cosmology was not to develop a comprehensive understanding of the universe. Rather, it was to legitimize the transition “from the concept of imperial sovereignty based on might into the need to support a claim to rule with intellectual sanctions” (Loewe 1994: 121–41). Thus, the emperor was said to be the crucial link between the natural and human realms. In fact, according to the Han scholar Dong Zhongshu (ca. 195–105 BCE), the Chinese character for king (王) reflected the solemn responsibility of the emperor (symbolized by the vertical stroke in the middle) for connecting the three potencies ☰: heaven (tian), earth (di) and humankind (ren) (Redmond & Hon 2014: 159–61). As such, the emperor was indeed the Son of Heaven (tianzi) who was omnicompetent, omnipotent and omniscient (Loewe 2011; Queen 1996). To support absolutism, Han commentators transformed the Yijing into a cosmological manual reflecting the ebb and flow of cosmic forces. They earnestly reorganized the hexagram sequence to match the cosmic rhythm, demonstrating that the natural and human realms are one and the same. Although most of the writings of the Han commentators are lost, in an 8th9th century text, Zhouyi jijie (A Collection of Explanations on the Changes of Zhou Dynasty) edited by Li Dingzuo, we have glimpses of the ambition of the Han commentators who spent their lives fathoming the cosmos and ordering the world (R. Smith 2008: 57–88). For instance, Jing Fang (77–37 BCE) created the Hexagrams of Eight Palaces (ba gong gua): Qian ䷀, Kun ䷁, Zhen ䷲, Xun ䷸, Kan ䷜, Li ䷝, Gen ䷳, Dui ䷹. These eight palace hexagrams are the doubles of the eight trigrams. For Jing, each of these palace hexagrams leads a group of seven hexagrams. For example, Qian ䷀ leads ䷫, ䷠, ䷋, ䷓, ䷖, ䷢, ䷍. In this new alignment of hexagrams, there is both a steady increase or decrease of the yin and yang cosmic forces, and the the hidden power of the two forces even when they are dormant (for the new sequence of 64 hexagrams based on eight palaces, see Nielson 2003: 3). Another new sequence of hexagrams was the “waning and waxing hexagrams” (xiaoxi gua) perfected by Yu Fan (164–233). Representing the ebb and flow of the yin and yang cosmic forces, the “waning and waxing hexagrams” go as follows: Fu ䷗[24]→ Lin ䷒[19] → Tai ䷊[11] → Dazhuang ䷡[34] → Guai ䷪[43] → Qian ䷀[1] → Gou ䷫[44] → Dun ䷠[33] → Pi ䷋[12] → Guan ䷓[20] → Bo ䷖[23] → Kun ䷁[2] (back to Fu) When reading from Fu to Qian, the yang force gradually increases while the yin force decreases. When reading from Gou to Kun, the yin force increases while the yang force decreases. As a system, the twelve hexagrams are continuous. When the series ends with Kun, it begins anew with Fu (Nielson 2003: 275–76).

By developing these new hexagram sequences, the Han Yijing commentators wanted to achieve two goals. First, they freed themselves from the original sequence of the 64 hexagrams that was, to them, incoherent and inconsistent. To the Han commentators, the problem of the original sequence was its failure in lining up hexagrams in accordance with their graphic images. By creating new ...


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